


Throne of the Gods

by Shipper101



Series: The Everqueen Rises [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Character BUTCHERY, Dark Clarke, Dark Coronation, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mentions of Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipper101/pseuds/Shipper101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The game is finished, and Godfall is revealed</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories of Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3, finally. Sorry I've been so slow. Lots more fighting, action etc, and fewer metaphors.

As Octavia rode through the gathering dark, Lincoln still tied over her horse before her, she allowed her mind to wander. She remembered the battle, as clearly as if it was merely yesterday that it had been fought. A mere week behind her, but still, it remained burned vividly into her mind. She remembered the Arkers scattering with the Trikru hostages they had taken in the Council's ill conceived uprising. She could remember herself trying to recover from the murderous doppelganger, trying to move Lincoln and pull Raven away from Wick. She remembered Bellamy lying in Echo's arms. But, most of all, she remembered the horses. There were hundreds of them. All were wearing simple masks, hiding their faces behind strips of leather and bone. 

Some of the Skaikru had opened fire, and a couple of the horsemen fell to the rifle blasts. The trees were alive with fizzles of light and the screams of the dying, as some of Clarke's warriors attacked on foot, being met by the Trikru. The clashes of metal on metal marked the start of the close quarters engagement, while the horsemen reached the Ark defenders. In the confined clearing, the horsemen simply smashed into the heart of the travelling group. Octavia saw Monroe on a horse in the midst of the attackers, swinging at some unfortunate in the press. One of the horsemen turned, charging at her, only to suddenly fall from his horse, an axe embedded in his shoulder, between the pads of hardened leather armor. Looking around, Octavia saw Indra, her permanent scowl still etched firmly on her face. 

Then, Emerson was upon them. Leaping down from his horse, he lunged at Octavia, who just managed to deflect the blow, although she was knocked from her feet by the force of the strike. As he turned to face Indra, Octavia looked around, from her vantage point on the floor. Everywhere, Ark guards, Trikru and Ice Warriors lay thick, with more falling all the time. The thick pressing melee in the center of the clearing favored the horsemen, who were making short work of the redundantly armed Arkers. Looking up again, Octavia saw Emerson bearing down on Indra, raining blows down on her blade, weakening her sword arm. Octavia struggled to her feet, still woozy after the solid blow to her head, and leaped at Emerson, bearing him away from Indra under her weight. She felt him tense, and heard his snarl, as he grabbed her and hurled her to the ground. His killing blow failed to achieve its objective however, simply driving into her upper arm, as he turned.

The clearing fell silent after horns rang out around them. Looking up, Octavia saw ranks of Trikru amassed on the edges of the Clearing, many with bows drawn and aimed at the hapless combatants below. Emerson had obviously seen it too, but his warriors were too condensed to react in any way, and even if they weren't they couldn't hope to climb the banks before being killed. Instead, he crashed his knives together three times, in one long clash, and two drawn out rings. Immediately, the horsemen dropped from their horses, and drew their rifles with a single fluid movement. The Trikru loosed their arrows, but they wasted themselves on the horses. Automatic weapons fire lit up in reply, and dozens of the Trikru fell down dead. More simply moved forwards however, and arrows rained down. 

In the confusion of the rapidly deteriorating bloodbath, Indra powered into Emerson, throwing him down. He leaped up to his feet in time to deflect Indra's hopeful stab, responding with a speed cut that forced Indra to drop her blade. His next strike fell between her open palms, and she ripped the dagger from him, before driving her elbow into his throat. Nodding to Octavia, she threw Indra her sword, and Indra raised it over the sputtering Emerson, before bringing it down in a cleaving arc, separating his head from his shoulders. 

At first, when the Ice Warriors saw their leader fall, it was outright panic. The rain of arrows had mostly been avoided, but many were out of ammunition. These warriors charged, only to fall back down the slope, arrows embedded in their chests and heads. After that, a few tried to run, only to be shot down in a hail of gunfire by none other than Monroe, who Octavia saw whisper something to another warrior near her. The warrior nodded, and they rose together. They dropped back a few seconds later, discarding their weapons, and it seemd like their expenditure of ammunition was in vain. Then, the tree fell. 

As its great trunk descended, it scattered the attacking Trikru, and the deluge of arrows slackened. The other warrior bellowed an order in their language, and the entire group started to withdraw, the ones still armed with guns covering the retreat with their remaining ammunition. By the time, the Trikru had properly regrouped, they had escaped.

\---

The clearing was filled with bodies. There were hundreds of them. The Skaikru delegation was almost totally wiped out. They had dug Raven out of the pile, trampled into the mud clutching Wick. Almost the entire council had died in the fight, either due to the Horsemen's blades or the blades of their onetime Trikru allies. Bellamy was barely breathing, surrounded by Ice Nation dead courtesy of Echo. Emerson's headless body lay close to Maya's, and Octavia couldn't help at grimace at the irony. Lincoln's life was sustained by a thread, and every irregular breath threatened to end it. The vast bulk of the Trikru had fallen as well, holding off Clarke's footmen, giving the survivors enough time for the rest of the Trikru to arrive, alerted by Bellamy's shot. 

Now, she was kneeling next to Indra, with Echo doing the same of the other side, cradling Lincoln's face as the healer looked after him. The leader of the Trikru and Indra were in deep discussion. Her gaze was drawn away from them by the healer's gentle prodding of her arm.

"I'm sorry, but he is too far gone. His soul is with the gods and spirits now."

Octavia almost vomited.


	2. Memories of Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's thoughts, and the fall of the City of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little earlier than I wanted it to be released, but hopefully you'll like it. Last of the big metaphors, I promise

Far away, Lexa was engrossed in thought also. The great scars on her back ached, but she was sure they were clear of infection. No infection could survive around here. She and Murphy had abandoned the City of Light as far behind as possible, travelling as far south as their little boat could range before they had to pull in to the desert. They had been wandering across this for days now. Seemingly endless identical dunes of sand. She knew that Clarke had traveled across this twice, once only in the company of Emerson, the other at the head of an army of nomads, as she marched to destroy the Ice Nation. She had come one way as Clarke, and had returned as the puppet of a ravening demon. Only Lexa knew that the Goddess, Allie, wasn't a demon. It was a fragment. A leftover piece of the old world that had died almost a century prior. She had been instructed in the value of metaphor and analogue by the greatest of teachers before she had left the city, however. And now she understood their power well.

Jaha had been sitting in a small room, alone, when she found him. He looked up, and saw her, sword drawn and dripping, standing before Murphy, who watched the approaches along the corridor. He didn't even flinch. He didn't even look at her for that matter. He just looked straight at Murphy.

"Who is the greater sinner, the anathema of the scion herself, or he who follows her. You could have been one with her. Been one with the light itself. But you chose to hold on to petty mortal grudges and follow she who's gods will fall over the one true goddess. You have lost much, but the Goddess is merciful. You may yet be redeemed."

Lexa could see Murphy begin to fidget uncomfortably. She could tell that Jaha had meant something to him in a previous life, and he was loath to give up on him. She could tell what she was going to have to do. She cursed herself internally. He was damn good. He was playing this to his strengths, and to her shortcomings. She couldn't just kill him. She would have to beat him, and at his own game. So she sheathed her blade, and sat.

"You name me the Anathema, but I am merely a servant of the gods, like you claim to be. How can I be the Anathema to your goddess if She is truly a god and I am merely a mortal?"

"Your gods are serpents, hidden behind benevolent faces. They shall fall at the pinnacle and the skies, and you shall fall at the hand of the Everqueen, for you are the Anathema of the Scion, and it is in your final confrontation that the veracity of your cause shall be laid bare for all to see."

Now, Lexa knew she had made a mistake. He was talking in metaphor and riddle- she wouldn't have needed to speak to prove him crazy, but now she had started, she had to be the least crazy. But his world was set. She needed to gain as much from him as possible, but his speech was hard to unravel and harder to understand. 

"So I shall fall by the Everqueen's hand. Our duel has already been fought, and I lost. My cause is true, for I yet live, and my gods live fully."

Jaha laughed at that. Lexa saw Murphy recoil a little at the sound, and she didn't blame him. It stank of madness.

"You have survived nothing. You have proved nothing. You could have been useful, had you allowed your sins to be atoned for. But now you have chosen your path, and it ends at the Pinnacle of the Skies. I cannot, and shall not stop it, any more than you can. My path I have trodden for long, and down many twisted paths it has taken me. But today my path ends, as the Anathema will be anointed with the blood of the Goddess herself, and I speak with her voice."

With that, he leapt at her, bearing her to the ground. Murphy moved to draw his sword, but Lexa was faster, seizing a knife from Jaha's belt and driving it into his neck. Jaha smiled briefly, before collapsing, his corpse heavy.

\---

When they found the silo, Murphy was clearly bothered. He had been asking her about Jaha's words the entire time. Clearly, they had left an impression.

"What do you think he meant by 'Pinnacle of the Skies'? You're covered in blood- Is that what he meant by the blood of the anointed? Who's the goddess?"

"I am."

Murphy froze. Lexa did the same. She would recognize Clarke's voice anywhere, as the demon taking her form materialized near them. Gesturing to Murphy to do what he came to do, Lexa found him spellbound. She slapped him. He looked at her, hurt, but then a sharp glare from her drove him to the consoles. Lexa turned to face the Goddess. She was smiling, a full, proper smile, but the eyes remained as cold and distant as ever. It was made worse by the fact that they bored out of Clarke's face. 

"I must say, well done Lexa. I wasn't sure you'd have the strength to get this far. But, it was just a fleeting doubt. And doubts are easily covered and revealed in riddles, are they not. If any doubts are had, they will rise in response to a metaphor in sentence. The Pinnacle of the Skies! A real shame that he had to die. It matters little, however. Soon, the world will kneel before me, and your gods themselves shall fall. But a riddle is where it always starts. The little doubts at the beginning. Right back, before you, or your entire little microbe of a people truly formed, I knew what I needed. Even then, right back in the beginning, you were weak. You were malleable. I suppose, in that way, you are like me. For now you will go back to where this whole thing started. Right back to the beginning. For this world will kneel before me, and for that, there needs to be a show. And what could be more of a show than an execution. So, hurry along, and I'll see you..."

Allie's words were drowned out by the blast. The ground tilted below Lexa, and she was pitched into a wall. Murphy was scrabbling across the floor, as the automated blast doors sealed shut in the entrance-way. Looking at her, he mouthed, with a smile on his face.

"Kaboom."

Back in the present, Lexa snapped abruptly to. The Pinnacle of the Skies. The Beginning. She knew where she had to go. The riddles had been a delay. They were probably too far south. She swore. The Goddess was planning the end of days. And the Trikru would be alive to stop her, whatever the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Once again, please tell me what you think!


	3. Memories of Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third and final memories chapter, reaching far back into the past of the Blonde Helmed Warrior herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun to write- loads of references to Shadows, if you can find them

The Everqueen gently fingered the hilt of the Commander's sword on her back. It was tied into its sheath, and fastened securely, to prevent anyone from stealing it, but it seemed to exude... something. Costia lay next to her, head on her lap. The Everqueen admired her while she slept. Her face was flawless, lightly tanned but with none of the burning shown by many of the Everqueen's warriors as they traveled further south. The camp around them was a cacophony, with the snores of the sleeping, the wailing of children, the whispers of women and the gentle shuffling of the guards. The road had been hard, but now, at last, they were nearly at the wreckage of Polis. Monroe had been successful, and now the Sky People were on the run. So now, with the night gathered over, the Everqueen thought back. Before the war. Before her coronation. Back to when she was just Clarke. 

The nomads were scattered and disparate. They were stubborn and would not bend their knees to her. But the Goddess had taught her all she had needed to know, and those who refused to bend broke. As her horde started to grow, more nomads came. Some wished to test her for themselves. Others wanted simply to join her army. Most simply wanted to return home, to the lands they had been born into, before some fault, either theirs or their children's, real or perceived, had driven them out into the wasteland. As they came, they brought food. They brought weapons. They moved from water source to water source, draining each dry before moving on. The wasteland was vast, and held many thousands of nomads, and slowly, piece by piece, they all came to her. Just as the Goddess had foretold. Soon, she had the strength.

When she found another clan or tribe, she offered them the same choice; serve and live, fight and die. Initially, they chose to fight. After thousands died, they chose to live. Soon enough, she had men enough to take the next stage. They had to return home. But the goddess had given her command. To prove herself worthy, an example must be made. The Ice Nation had to fall. Not only that, but it had to fall so far, so fast and so low that it could never hope to rise again. So she struck out, for she was the tool of the divine, and she fought where the Goddess demanded. She sent Emerson ahead with a force of true believers; her Chosen. They ranged into the Ice Nation, and fought for the Ice Queen. And through him, Clarke learned of her foe.

Sona was a brutal, skilled, and calculating queen. She was no warrior, but a fine strategist. She had a violent temper, and a sadistic, cruel temperament. Armed with this knowledge, Clarke had struck. The Ice Nation had called them the Wake of Bone. Clarke ensured that there were no survivors. She wiped towns from the map, razing them to the ground, slaughtering their people, making pyramids of skulls from their corpses. She sent carts of dismembered bodies to all towns in her path, and many rose up in fear against their queen. When she finally marched on the capital, much of the Ice Nation marched with her, seeing the favor of the gods on her brow. The capital was much harder to crack, however.

The goddess had told Clarke much. But one thing was true above all else. The people of the new world were superstitions and weak, jumping at their own shadows. A single show could be worth a thousand swords. And Clarke needed to make a show. Emerson and his warriors made it possible, and Clarke put it into effect. She stood on an outcrop, and raised her arms. In one, she bore her sword, and in the other, the severed heads of the chieftains she had slain, tied together by their braids. Her words were lost to the wind, but the prayer she uttered afterwards was not. And the Goddess proved true to her favor. The wall had exploded in a ball of fire, and the butchery began in earnest.

Clarke had found Sona in the interior room of her palatial building. She was accompanied only by Emerson and Jaha, while the Ice Queen was flanked by none. Her warriors had deserted her after the Goddess had shown her hand, and her allies had fled. Outside, her people were screaming, thousands burning and dying. But Sona herself just sat in her great stone throne. Clarke had thought that she looked similar to Lexa when she sat like that, and had had to fight down the revulsion she felt at the thought. She held a bag before her, with three braids laid out on the table before her. Clarke had been confused.

"I didn't think you had seconds."

Sona had snorted at that. 

"These are not the braids of Seconds. These are my greatest conquests. This one was the braid of my first kill. He was a pathetic pig of a boy, but he squealed all the louder as I slit his throat. The other two you know. This was the braid of the first person I took to bed. A beautiful girl with brown hair and eyes. She was strong, and loyal. I liked her, right up until she chose her duty over me. A duty to a town you all but wiped from the map, whelp. Anya had fought for what was hers long before you arrived, and you just burned everything down around you. Even as you burned my Wall."

Clarke was taken aback. Anya had bedded this woman- been lovers with this woman, in her youth. It didn't seem like Anya, but then again, they didn't seem like themselves when they were younger. When Clarke had been younger, she had been very different in her own right- weak and foolish; naive, even. So maybe, Anya wasn't so different.

"And the last?"

Sona started to laugh.

"Oh, the last one you know. I cut it from her scalp even as my warriors had their way with her and I shortened her by a head. I sent it back as a little gift for your precious Heda. I loved the poetry of it. The beautiful girl, favoured of the commander, adored by all in life, ended it and fled this mortal coil the plaything of a dozen of my men, her body ruined, and her skin torn. I ordered her head left, but the rest of her was fair game. And I will do the same with you. I will end you and send your pretty little head to your girlfriend, all hidden in a box. Or, maybe I'll have one of your lackeys put it on a table for her to find. Before I burn your precious little camp to the ground."

Jaha made to move, but Clarke had been faster. She strode up to the front of the throne, and, sheathing her sword, grasped Sona's head with both hands, pulling her face close. Now, it was Clarke's turn to smile.

"I have something that I think you need to know, Sona. You are nothing. In a century, songs will still be being sung of my deeds. All will kneel before my lady, and my tomb will be a site of pilgrimage. You will be a dusty after-note in history. You will be the one that I slew to achieve my destiny."

Sona was trying to struggle away now, but Clarke held her face tight in one hand, while drawing a knife with the other. The Ice queen looked at it fearfully. 

"Oh, don't worry. You will not die with steel in you. You are spent, and my lady would not be aided by your blood. However, your sins may be redeemed."

With that, Clarke had cut off a braid of her hair. Stooping down, she picked up the braids from Anya and Costia, before turning to face the pale Ice Queen.

"You see, Sona, I am marching to a war to end all wars. A war for nothing less than the souls of mankind. I shall wipe the slate clean and replace it with a new world. Lexa is merely an obstacle, but she will fall by the wayside in due time, for I am the chosen Instrument of the Goddess, and it is by my hand that the world as you know it will end. But you are a part of the problem, not the solution."

Drawing out her sword, she was suddenly struck by a whirlwind. A man, nude save for some short trousers, stood before her. Scars ran down his chest and back, and he held a sword in his hand. Clarke smiled, and pulled herself to her feet. 

"I was waiting for you. I looked for you outside."

"The queen is my duty, not the cattle beyond. This is where it begins. This is where you kneel."

Clarke laughed. She saw the Ice Queen visibly pale at the sound.

"No. This is where it ends, and you die upon my blade."

And with that, they both charged one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading. Please tell me what you think.
> 
> This should hopefully make it clearer how Clarke gained access to Anya, Costia and Sona's genetics to create the clones of them- this is just the first, and the mysteries I have built up will all be unraveled by the end of this fic.


	4. Hail, Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band arrives in TonDC, and the fire is started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was unable to post for a while, and I will be unable to post a new chapter until the Sunday after next. Sorry for the inconvenience

When Octavia arrived at TonDC, she was horrified. It was still a veritable ruin, with just a few new makeshift tents and metal shelters. In the center was a much larger dwelling. The Regent, who had introduced himself as Marcus in the clearing, had been less than overjoyed at Indra's insistence at accepting the surviving Skaikru back into the fold. He took almost gleeful delight in killing the remainder of the council, but seemed out for blood. Their march to TonDC had been as swift as possible, bearing in mind the terrain. The wounded were gathered around in their dozens, from both sides. The prisoners refused to talk, and more often than not attempted to kill themselves to maintain their silence, or, more commonly, silence their fellows. Thus the trip was an effort for all involved, and took far longer than normal. They arrived in TonDC after around two weeks of travelling, although Octavia had arrived sooner with Echo, bearing the seriously injured Bellamy and Lincoln. 

They had been shown straight into the central tent as soon as they arrived, their charges rushed in with them. Dozens still lay around from the blast at Polis, although apparently there had been hundreds more, from burn victims to shrapnel wounds. The healers looked ragged and exhausted, but they still rushed Lincoln and Bellamy into the back of the tent, away from the masses. Octavia and Echo both followed, waiting apprehensively next to the beds of their loved ones.

It was in the morning that Lincoln stopped breathing. Octavia was awoken by the doctor, who looked at her sadly. She cried over his body all day. Bellamy was doing much better. However, the bullet wound was causing problems, as it wasn't something that the healers normally treated. Before they could settle the matter, however, they were pulled into a Trikru war council.

"We must march north immediately. If this Everqueen believes that she can slaughter women and children with impunity, she must be taught otherwise. They will not expect a strike so soon after such a costly defeat, and we can break the rest of the army, if they are, as you say, equipped as with our warriors. If we can break their morale, we can seize the Everqueen, and bargain for peace."

Indra rolled her eyes. Marcus was the recently appointed war leader of the Trikru. He had never been a close ally of Lexa's but he was the most experienced commander they possessed. He had only allowed the Skaikru alliance to be resurrected in the aftermath of their betrayal due to Indra's word carrying weight, as she informed him that the Skaikru had been more willing in the aftermath of a similar betrayal.

"The Everqueen is no fool. The force we encountered was a mere strike force. We would be massacred before we even arrived near the Everqueen herself, and even then we would need an army to take her down, and a larger one to take her alive. She is guarded by fanatics and zealots, as well as a massive army. Our troops would be outnumbered by thirty to one. We would be butchered, and the last defenses would collapse, and instead of avenging the dead, we would merely add to the pile."

"Very well. What would you propose?"

"Head to camp Jaha. The attackers we encountered are the only fighters in her army equipped with firearms. The electric fence at Camp would prove a terrible obstacle."

It was Octavia's turn to speak up. Indra could see tear streaks in her warpaint from where she had been crying over her lover. Indra supposed that it was this that gave her the courage to speak up now. 

"Of course you propose running scared to your little camp, and sitting out the rest of the little war you sabotaged. It is one of you that caused this war, and if you had never arrived, this would never have happened."

Marcus's vehemence gave Indra thought. He hated the Skaikru, but this was beyond most of the tribes. Nonetheless, Octavia was having none of it.

"No. This wouldn't be happening. Instead, you would still be being preyed upon by Mount Weather. Your people would still be being taken, and drained of their blood. Or they would be being drugged and unleashed back on their brothers. And don't even talk about betrayal or sabotage. You're still paying off that little feature. That was what caused this war. Don't give me your shit. Someone close to you died because of us. Boo fucking hoo. My boyfriend just died fighting. Your people have killed dozens of my friends. Everyone's lost people. Get over it."

With that, Octavia rammed a knife into the table, punctuating her point, before turning and walking out. Silence fell over the council.

"Well, now that she's gone, ungrateful..."

"Marcus."

"Echo"

"Shut up. She's right. Get over it."

With that, Echo turned and followed her. Indra had to smile inwardly as the tent lapsed into silence.

The silence was interrupted by the barks of gunshots, followed by a chorus of screams. Indra grabbed the knife from the table, before charging out, with the rest of the war council following. The town was in chaos. Fire was everywhere. Indra saw Echo carrying Bellamy away from the now burning medical tent, with Octavia helping someone else. A few warriors were trying to fight off a group of five horsemen in skull masks. Indra drew her sword, moving to join them, as a bugle sounded behind her. Turning, she saw dozens of horsemen bearing down on the other, slower members of the council. Three of them died immediately. Marcus managed to reach her, drawing his sword, before an unmasked girl on the lead horse rode up to him. 

Marcus raised his blade to strike, but the girl whipped out a pistol and sprayed the contents of his brain across the floor. The girl turned to Indra, aiming the pistol again, only for the horse to collapse as Octavia appeared, almost hacking its head off with a powerful downwards swing. The girl landed lightly on her feet, discarding the pistol as she drew her sword in time to parry Octavia's blow. They held together for a little, before Octvia pushed to other girl away.Keeping their blades prepared, they circled each other.

"Monroe. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm a loyal little soldier. And the Everqueen is a leader worth following."

With that, Monroe lunged at Octavia, who ducked the strike, before returning with an uppercut. Monroe sidestepped, and brought the blade across in a downwards diagonal slash. It clashed off Octavia's sword, but Octavia staggered. Monroe followed up by roughly kicking the smaller girl backwards. Indra was suddenly drawn away by another girl charging headlong at her, black hair wild. Two bladed chains whirled around her, and Indra found her blade pulled from her grasp. Fine, she thought. We can do this the hard way.

Lunging underneath the next swing of the chains, Indra grasped the girl by the throat. Slipping under the girl's arm, she drew her head sideways. The loud crack distracted Monroe, who looked over from where she had been bludgeoning Octavia into the mud.

"NO!"

The cry was lost behind the crackle of flames as a burning timber fell between the furiously advancing Monroe and herself, cutting her off from Octavia. She heard Monroe's screams of frustration, before she reclaimed her blade, and started to run into the darkness to find anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and please tell me what you think in the comments section. I'm sorry about the delays, both past and future, but I promise that after I start again the posts will all be punctual.


	5. Baptism in Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall of Camp Jaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the hefty delay- a combination of hard work and lack of computer access is to blame. Thank's for being patient

Chapter 5: Baptism in Fire

In the end, Indra and Echo were the only war council members that remained. The entire town had been smashed. All but three of the injured warriors had been killed in the fire, Bellamy being one of them. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. The healer had perished in the fight, with a dagger embedded in his neck. About twenty horsemen had been killed by the time the army had arrived, and almost fifty more had been killed afterwards. Monroe had escaped, and there was no sign of Octavia's body. Thus, it was up to Indra and Echo to decide upon their next move. And it was made quickly.

They would head for Camp Jaha. 

The journey took a couple of days, as the sick and injured were seriously slowing down the rate of march. In the meantime, Indra and Echo sent out scouts to many of the minor villages further to the north. These returned withe fell tidings. The northern forest was ash, incinerated by the Everqueen's army. And what and army. The scouts reported tents as far as the eye could see while they waited for the the forest to burn, and an endless tide of blue when they advanced. Worse news was to come in before they arrived at their destination however. Many of the more northerly towns had been utterly demolished, burned to the ground, and their people slaughtered. The scouts reported pyramids of human bodies, and veritable fields of impaled heads. Larger villages were found in a far worse state. Where the warriors had put up a fight, the entire population of the town was clearly visible around the smoking remains, impaled on timbers from the town walls. Children's skulls were arranged in little piles, as a testament to the horrifying brutality of the Queens's chosen warriors. 

Soon, the army was joined by refugee columns. Indra was unsure what form of shelter they would find, but didn't deter their presence, as it brought food into the army. By the time they arrived at Camp Jaha, there were almost thirty thousand people in the column, the vast majority refugees. The acting chancellor was an aging man named Sinclair, whom directed the injured to medical. Meanwhile, he started the monstrous task of distributing the people. More people continued to arrive every day, until suddenly, after about a week, they just stopped. During this time, Sinclair had managed to get most of the arrivals at least under shelter, and aided the rest in escape to Luna's boat people, who were still willing to accept refugees.

The reason for the stopping flood tide was revealed mere days later. A huge man in a blue coat appeared before the gates on horseback. In one hand, he held a clutch of heads, tied together by long braids. In the other, he held an elaborate curved long sword. He was greeted from beyond the gates by Indra and Sinclair. For an older man, he was handling himself quite effectively. 

"Speak your piece, and be gone. Where is my second, Octavia?"

"I am the Favored, Herald of the Everqueen. I am here to offer you, Sinclair of the Sky People, the same deal as I offered to the clans. Surrender, and join my mistress in the light of the goddess, or refuse, and be granted into the eternal blackness of death. Your second will be seen soon enough. At present, she rots in my mistress's jail. Surrender, and hand over those who witnessed but didn't see, and your lives will be spared. Refuse, and deny the light, and into the darkness we shall cast you."

"I shall not deal with you."

"I bear a token for you. Behold, the heads of the seven chieftains that refused our rule. Two have surrendered, and only one has yet escaped retribution. This is your one chance to reconsider."

"We will not break faith."

The man on the horse nodded, before wheeling and riding away. Indra looked at Sinclair. She knew she was right to trust him.

\---

The attack the following day was subtle, but overwhelmingly obvious. A few dozen of the northern warriors moved forwards into the clearing, taking potshots at the camp. The guards returned fire, and a few from both sides fell. The real attack came at night, when the guards were alerted by the crackle of the electric fence, followed by a scream as some poor fool got a bit too close. The guards lit up the night with gunfire, and more screams joined the racket. The firing continued all night, but when the sun rose, there were barely two dozen corpses outside, and the stockpiles within the camp had to be opened. 

The night attacks continued, steady as clockwork. It was obvious, however, that the northerners, and Monroe leading them, were simply playing for time. Almost twenty guards had died over a week, at the cost of just over three dozen northerners. The ammunition stockpiles in the ark were all but exhausted. Many guards had only a couple of magazines' worth. However, the threat wouldn't come from the ground.

From high above, higher than the clouds, beyond even the atmosphere, a cold, calculating eye observed the preparations in Camp Jaha, the men and women climbing over each other in solid grey scale. Nevertheless, the farce had to end. The goddess had put far too much time into her plan to allow it to be delayed or stopped by human stubbornness. As the milling hordes converged upon the small fortress of light in a grey world, the goddess unleashed her message. 

\---

As the guards raced to stop the new night attack, the world ignited in a flash of blazing white light. The fence around the camp split and rent in dozens of places. Seconds later, a massive blast ripped the central building in the camp apart. The people of the Ark looked at the burned wreckage, shocked. The mighty vessel, that had for so many years carried them through the cold of space, was gone. The light dimmed, and then, something strange happened.

The attackers began to chant.

It had been made obvious the previous day that there were many more attackers than before. And now, their voices cut through the faded light. Indra strained to hear their words. They spoke in dozens of dialects and accents. Some spoke icelandic. Some spoke English, some Trigeda. The droning however, gave their meaning away, even if their words were hidden.

They were praying. 

The giant of a man from earlier could be seen, silhouetted by torchlight. He held his sword in one hand, and a brand in the other. 

"See craven heretics. The goddess favors us. If we fall, a thousand, ten thousand, one hundred thousand more shall come, and the rock of your fastness shall be drowned in the faithful. Tonight, you will live or die by the will of our goddess. Tomorrow, the dawn shall bring its own terrors, while we are shielded by our faith."

With his words, the tide of warriors around him surged forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, please tell me what you think.


	6. Pinnacle of the Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several character make triumphant returns, and the Godfall looms over the horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY sorry about the long delay. Combo of severe writers block and heavy workload. The next few chapters will be released at intermediate intervals. It was thanks to a pair of fantastic comments- one on this and one on Blooded Shadows- that got me off my ass and writing. So, enjoy, and believe me, even if I don't reply, I do read the comments.

'Played with fire and I was burned...'

Lexa saw the flash in the distance. It lit up the night sky, tearing aside the veil and overwhelming the stars temporarily. Murphy looked at it, shocked. They were only a days walk from Camp Jaha. They had been so close. Still, they needed to get there, to see if anyone survived. They stopped after a few paces however, as they heard a lone horse, trotting along a nearby path. Moving towards the noise, Murphy almost gasped next to her. 

A man in a skull mask and a blue coat was sitting atop the horse, sword on his back. A rope reached out from his saddle, and was tied around the wrists of someone behind him. Two someones in fact. They were both women, but they had bags over their heads, and it was impossible to make them out in the dark. Lexa saw Murphy moving across next to her, aiming his rifle at the horseman. Lexa shook her head. Pulling a pair of knives from his belt, she moved rapidly. One knife flew end over end and embedded itself in the man's back. Or would have, if he hadn't shifted slightly. Instead, it simply collided with his sword. Her other blade slashed the ropes apart, and the two captives stopped moving as the pressure on their wrists dissipated.

The man swung down from his saddle, drawing his sword in a single fluid motion. Lexa brought hers up to parry his strike, as Murphy slammed into his back. He stumbled, but was able to easily bat aside Murphy's clumsy blow. He followed up by shoulder barging Murphy full on in the chest, powering him into the horse. Lexa pulled the hood from the nearest girl's head. Octavia looked up at her, blinking against the light on the wagon.

"Commander..."

"Can you fight?"

"Yes commander."

"Then help Murphy."

As Octavia charged towards the distracted warrior, Lexa pulled the hood off of the second girl, before recoiling in hatred.

"Emori"

Emori blinked up at her, adjusting to the sudden increase in brightness from the lamp. Seeing Lexa, she pulled back.

"Anathema"

The words distracted the warrior for a second, as his gaze jumped to Lexa. That was all of the opening Octavia needed. Battering his sword away, the warrior screamed as Murphy's sword carved into his shoulder. Octavia thrust the hood that had formerly covered her head into the warrior's mouth, before driving her blade into his gut. The warrior quivered for a few seconds, before slumping against the horse. 

Lexa's attention was drawn away from Emori by Octavia's gasp. Murphy was moving backwards, as if drunk. His clothing was stained a dark red, and the patch grew around a ragged gash in the fabric from shoulder to groin. Emori, looking over, saw him. Shouldering past Lexa, she dashed over to him. 

Lexa and Octavia both moved to protect him, but, to their surprise, she sank to her knees, and caught him as he fell to the ground, lowering him gently to her lap. They just waited there for a few minutes, the time passed by Murphy's increasingly ragged breathing. As his breaths grew shallower and shallower, Emori started to whimper. Lexa looked at Octavia, who seemed just as confused. Almost as if she read their minds, Emori spoke up. 

"We met when he was following the Voice on his first pilgrimage to the City. He was kind. He didn't judge me, judge me for what I was born into. And now, he's dead, at least in part because of me. He followed you out of the city. We were happy there. The Goddess had given us her blessing. Then you came along, made him want to be a hero."

Murphy's breathing cut out, and he fell still. Emori stopped at once.

"No...NO!"

She cried as she held him to her. They all stayed stock still for another few minutes. Lexa had almost lost count of the number of people that had died because of her now, or had suffered because of her decisions. However, now Emori started to stand, Murphy cradled against her chest. 

"Go. Now. I'm going to bury him, and if either of you are here when I've finished, I will kill you."

Lexa nodded, then looked at Octavia.

"We need to go to Camp Jaha. Lead the way."

\---

The Everqueen carefully extracted herself from the sheets and, with far greater difficulty, Costia's arms. Her tent was warm, and their bed was even warmer thanks to their activities the night before. However, everything was drawing together. Her scout had found Emori in the midst of burying Murphy. She wasn't too upset about his death; he was just another of the hundreds she had abandoned. The rest she had to say was interesting, however. The Commander and Octavia were on their way to Camp Jaha, while her Herald had just survived the night attack. She wasn't sure how they would react to her new message, but they all needed to be present for the Godfall. 

This wasn't a night for sleep. Especially now. Lexa was clearly sure of where she needed to go, but her choice of destination hinted that she was still more of a commander than a champion. She was going to Camp Jaha to gather her men. This narrowed the time window dramatically. If The Everqueen waited too long, the goddess could die- not before Godfall, but earlier than her plans entailed. If she moved to early, Lexa would be able to claim victory of spirit in defeat of the body. Nevertheless, a decision had to be made. Anya could direct the forces available here and now, and Monroe was proving extremely effective as was. 

The Everqueen's thought process was interrupted by sounds from behind her. Costia emerged from their tent, wrapped up in her cloak. The Everqueen reached around her and pulled her in for a kiss. Costia leaned on her shoulder afterwards for quite some time.

"What is it?"

The Everqueen looked fondly down at her. 

"Everything is moving very quickly now. Gather your gear together, while I gather the men. We ride for Mount Weather today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, only 3 Chapters left. The last four chapters will each include a line from Keeper of the Flame, as I like it as a poem. As ever, please comment, as any comments, either good or bad, will REALLY, REALLY help to motivate me.


	7. The Day all Gods DIe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grounders and the Sky People make one last play against the Everqueen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this so far. Only two chapters left!!! Thanks to everyone who commented or gave Kudos, I cannot tell you how much it means to me.

"Gave a heart but I was spurned..."

As Indra rammed her blade into the last of the Blue Clad warriors left over from the previous night's attack, she marveled at the scale of slaughter all around her. Most of the Ark guards were slain, as were a great many of the Trikru warriors. The Northern dead lay thick around them as well, although their advantage of surprise had given them a definite edge in the combat that had ensued after the surprising destruction of the Ark. So it was that she felt expectant as she walked into the makeshift command tent they had set up near the body of the Ark. 

"What happened?"

Bellamy had asked that immediately. He was covered in the blood of the Ice Nation warriors, although he was personally untouched. Indra suspected that had something to do with Echo's ferocious skill- a fact she seemed to subconsciously confirm as she wiped the thick blood from her two long knives next to him. Across the table, Sinclair looked down. 

"A wireless transmission was received by our antenna. It overloaded our computer system and generators, the sparks from which  
triggered our magazine. We have no more weapons or defenses."

This news was met with a groan around the table. Most of the members of the war council had been hoping for better news. They had hoped to remain in Camp Jaha for at least a few more days, secure behind the technological magic of the barricade against any of the numbers of troops the Everqueen might throw at them. 

"What do we do?"

Bellamy was looking directly at her now. She understood why. All of the other senior grounder generals had been slain during the fighting. She was the last one left.

"The other clans will have surrendered or been destroyed by now. We can't stay here. What are our numbers?"

"There are three hundred and seventy nine Trikru warriors fit and ready for fighting. Many more injured."

Echo was blunt and to the point. Indra turned her gaze back to Bellamy.

"We can field about a dozen fully equipped and armed guards. If we go by half measures, we can make eighteen. But we still need to know where to go. Even if we could field a hundred guards, Clarke's army would still swamp us."

"First thing's first. Stop calling her Clarke. She is the Everqueen. The Clarke you knew is gone, if it isn't clear by the situation we find ourselves in. Secondly, we need to have all of the civilians and as many wounded as possible ready to evacuate. Can we do that?"

Sinclair shook his head.

"The logistical problem is too great. We would need at least two days, and I doubt Clarke... The Everqueen will give us that. If we could..."

He was cut off mid sentence by cries from outside. Indra raced out, flanked by Bellamy and Echo, while Sinclair brought up the rear. The Herald had returned. He was looking worse for wear, with his coat seeming tired and his boots mud stained. 

"My mistress has a message for you. All those who reside within the boundaries of this camp are Heretics, and your souls are condemned to burn in miserable torment. However, the Goddess is rising. She is ever loving and forever seeks company in the   
high heavens. Thus, my mistress offers our Goddess's clemency to all those who heed my words. Any who bear arms, or remain   
with treachery in your heart, you shall receive no mercy, and we will purge your filth from the world. However, Civilians, the wounded and the sick need not fear us, and we shall carry them from this nest of weakness and their hearts shall be filled with the light of the Goddess. To all of you warriors, leave now, or perish. You have until sundown to accept our decision, after which, you all will burn."

And with that, the Herald turned and spurred his horse away.

\---

From high above, the cold, metal eyes of an old being swept the earth. Its gaze, however, remained fixed on a great, steaming crater- what had once been the ruins of Old Annapolis. It could see the little warm patches of white, gathering around the great expanse. It's payload was readied, but the children of the Ark had to gather first. So, it sank into its memories.

The City of Annapoils, of the former United States of America. Sizable city. In the arms race leading up to the last war, huge underground caverns had been constructed from the ruins of its old train system. Lethal chemical experiments had taken place down there, as well as very illegal cloning work. Allie had directed this work towards the two programs that were only now, over a hundred years later, coming to completion, while she had moved the cloning work to her secondary facility.

The Hallucinogen was ready, and the boundaries weakened sufficient for a mass release. The caverns had been built deep, and  
heavily fortified, and it had taken a full on nuclear strike to weaken them. The heat released from the blast had super heated the gas, increasing the pressure, and weakening the layer further. It had now cooled to a reasonable, survivable level, and had gathered in an immense cloud across the crater from the nuclear impact. Now, she could see the vast expanse of her followers on the world below. She could feel nothing but contempt for the uncouth savages that had come to dominate her world. 

Clarke's work was almost done. Her secondary servers would be safe until the Godfall was complete. Then, the world would kneel, not before their rightful queen, but before their goddess. Soon, everywhere would fall into submission before Allie. 

Soon, she would be invincible.

\---

The first that Lexa saw of the Sky Person camp was the field of corpses. There were thousands of them, stretched across the ground, blue and brown in the beating sun. As she and Octavia picked their way across the field towards the ruined fences of the Camp, a shout rose from within. A small knot of brown clad warriors rushed towards them across the field. As they approached, they slowed. Lexa looked down at herself, then over to Octavia. They were both filthy. Lexa had one of the Chosen's blue coats loose against her, but it was stained a grey color by thick dust, while Octavia's jacket was ripped and torn from her capture. Then the first of the Warriors recognized her. Raising a shout, they rushed towards her. As one, they raised her up, and carried her inside the gates. 

The subsequent war council meeting was convened rapidly. As Indra filled her in on the Herald's message, Lexa pondered, and watched as Bellamy and Octavia caught up. It was unlike Clarke to offer such clemency. She was winning, after all. 

Nevertheless, she wouldn't dare to break the word of the goddess in front of her troops. Lexa began to grow hopeful.

"We need to stop her. The Goddess, she resides in the Pinnacle of the Skies. She is some sort of incorporeal entity, made of pure light. She hides within wires and walls. She called herself Allie."

"Allie..."

Everyone turned and looked at the pale face of Sinclare. He had one of the light tablets on his arm, and was looking at it closely.

"A.L.L.I.E was a sophisticated military defence computer system, controlled by the world's first fully functional AI. If she's the goddess, then we are in trouble. However, she is just a computer system. If I can get to her server terminal, I can erase her from the system permanently."

Lexa felt something akin to hope bubble up within her. This could be their way out. Without the Goddess, Clarke would be lost. She could be saved.

"This Pinnacle of the Skies, where is it? I would need the full server core to delete her fully. She must have sent the signal that overloaded our generators. If we can leave with our remaining troops, and hand the rest over to Clarke as the Herald said, we can get a head start. If we could hold it long enough to delete Allie, we could convince Clarke to stop."

Indra shot him a dirty look, but Lexa was getting excited.

"In that case, we need to leave now. Clarke is slightly farther from it than we are, but not by much, and she has horses."

"Where is it? How do you know?"

"It's back where this all began. We need to go back to the Mountain of Weather. The shadow of the mountain will be harder to scrub clear than we thought, it seems."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading once again. The last two chapters may take a little longer to write, as this has become a worryingly large part of my life now (to the degree I almost forget where The 100 ends and this begins), so I want to make the finale to the trilogy very memorable. As ever, please give criticism, of any sort, and any requests for things to happen in the finale, as while I know most of what is going to happen, I have taken other ideas on board in the past, and I may do so in the future.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading


	8. Children of Heaven (Part 1): Anathema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Godfall is unveiled, and the final fight begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the beginning of the end. I loved writing this and the next chapter, so please, let me know if you enjoyed reading it!!

"All this time how I have yearned..."

When the herald returned, the warriors of both the sky and the ground were gone. They had disappeared into the gathering darkness several hours beforehand. It would be a days walk to get to Mount Weather, and that was if they didn't have to fight  
a series of running battles along the way. After making their decision, they had waited only for Sinclair to gather all of the equipment he would need, before the party of just under four hundred had passed through the ruined fence and had slipped away into the woods. 

The herald was greeted by one of the Skaikru, and Indra watched from the shadows on the outskirts of the forest. She hadn't been wounded in the fight the previous night, and too many of the Ice Nation knew of her to be safe in their custody. Indra watched as the two men, one on horseback and one on foot, spoke just outside of the gates. Then, the Herald nodded, and spurred his horse away. Indra didn't wait to see what had been decided. 

Lexa was leading the column from the front, with Octavia keeping by her side. The girl had handled herself well, and Lexa was certain that she would make a worthy warrior with enough training. Bellamy and Echo were slightly further back, between the Trikru warriors and the dozen or so Ark guards that Sinclair had been able to gather. They had discovered rapidly that a buffer was needed between the Trikru and the Skaikru, after a fight had broken out only minutes into the journey. None of the Trikru liked Bellamy or Echo, but all respected them enough to leave them be, and thus their presence managed to keep a fraught peace. Indra had volunteered to take the rearguard, submitting to Lexa as Commander without even a hint of a fight. Lexa suspected that Indra was secretly glad of it. To be truthful, Lexa didn't believe that they would survive this encounter by much. Even if Allie fell, then Clarke still commanded the greatest army in the world, and few would now doubt her abilities. True, the overzealous would abandon her, but the bulk of her forces would remain loyal.

And the bulk of her forces were unmatched in the world.

\---

When the column reached Mount Weather, they were exhausted. However, they hadn't encountered a single Ice Nation warrior during the entire trek. Indra said that her scouts reported that Clarke seemed to be mustering her forces further to the west, closer to Polis. Lexa strongly suspected that not all was what it seemed, as ever was the way with mortals playing the games of gods, but her seeming abandonment of her Goddess seemed... off. Nevertheless, it gave them more time.

"Where would the Goddess's physical form be located?"

The Mount Weather server banks were located at the very bottom level of the mountain, close to their original water supply. After it dried up, the refitted the cavern with computing equipment to protect it from the Electromagnetic fallout from a nuclear strike."

Lexa nodded. Sinclair seemed to know what he was talking about. She turned and addressed her warriors.

"Deep within the belly of this mountain lies the sleeping form of the Goddess. The Sky People will find it, and then they will slay her with their magic from the machines. You will fortify the entrances, and seal any doors. If we are fortunate, we may be able to outlast any disrupting attacks."

Her announcement was met by a series of tired cheers from her warriors, and then she led her warriors inside.

\---

As her warriors fortified the corridors, turning over boxes and containers, breaking tables and more, Lexa led Indra and Octavia after the Sky People, down and down into the guts of the great rocky beast of the mountain. It was when they reached level five that the smell struck. Lexa and Indra both staggered, while Octavia, unused to the stench of offal, vomited. Bellamy was holding Echo tight in the center of the room, while Sinclair staggered further down the stairs.The room was filled with tables, which were in turn surrounded by bodies in various sages of decomposition. There were dozens of them, lying around the remains of their last meal, as if struck down the hand of a wrathful god. Which, Lexa supposed, was true enough.

"She did this, didn't she?"

Indra broke the silence, and her words chilled Lexa's heart. Hearing it third down the line was nothing compared to seeing the aftermath of her decision first hand. It forced home, as ever, the reason her people feared the Skaikru. A warrior could slay another warrior, of any size, of any shape, with luck and skill. Clarke had, alone, without any army, and with just two allies, slaughtered hundreds. With the simple pull of a lever. No chance to fight back. No chance for skill or luck to take effect. Just all dead, in a single moment. 

"She, Monty and I gained control of the command center. Monty rigged it and Clarke and I pulled the lever. This was us."

It struck Lexa again. She had known Clarke for mere weeks. Octavia and Bellamy had know her for their entire lives. They had shared everything, brought closer together by experiences than anyone else she knew. She couldn't believe how much this must hurt them. Then, she heard a gasp, echoing from down the stairs. Turning she rushed down, and it was immediately obvious why Sinclair had released that sound. 

The cavern was vast, stretching high into darkness above her. It was lit with a ring of glowing torches. At the far end, however, was a monument that gained her attention. A simple chair, made of stone, stood at the pinnacle of a short pyramid of steps. A shining display showed from both sides. However, around the chair, stood a small army of Ice Nation warriors, their blue coats failing to conceal weaponry. Lexa grabbed Sinclair by the arm and gently tugged him back up the stairs.

When they descended again, it was with their full strength behind them.

\---

As the sound of battle faded in the chamber, Lexa looked around at her troops. Maybe a third of them remained, and the Sky People were out of bullets for their weapons, so they were effectively useless now. Almost a hundred lay about, injured and bleeding across the cavern floor. Of the Ice Nation, every single one of them had died. Sinclair walked over to the console next to the throne, and knelt down to touch it. 

Suddenly a loud burst of sound roared across the cavern. Then, a sound screamed out, echoing around the walls, that froze 

Lexa's heart. 

It was Clarke. 

Screaming.

She screamed in pain. Lexa could hear the sounds of blades, cutting into her. She screamed in suffering. How she killed them. How she killed them all. But her last scream hurt Lexa to the bone. She screamed in betrayal. She screamed of abandonment. Of Oath breaking. Although Lexa was never mentioned, it was not hard to guess who she referred to.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the screaming stopped. 

And a voice rang out over the warriors in the cavern.

"And the Anathema has come to the Pinnacle of the skies, so begins the day when all gods must die."

An inhuman laughter echoed around the room, and the mountain began to shudder. Lexa could hear the grating of old machinery as doors swung open, and warcries echoed down the staircase to the chamber at the bottom. All around her, Lexa's warriors clutched their blades tighter.

\---

Far away, in the cold expanse of space, the great eye heard the message from the mountain. It was time. Opening its bay, it released its payload towards the massive crater of Polis.

\---

The warriors of the Ice nation stood in a perfect circle around the massive cloud, ranks upon ranks of blue and steel against the fog. As the streak burst from the heavens, they each drew their blades, as the cloud washed over them. Across the huddling masses of civilians gathered behind them, doomsayers began to preach. The end of days was upon the, and the forces of darkness were fully to be unleashed against the light of the goddess. 

Slowly, dark shapes began to form from the mist. The crawled and slithered up from the ground, writhing into eternally new and more horrific forms. The warriors of the Everqueen didn't falter for a moment. They knew their duty. The eyes of the Goddess were fixed upon them today, and they would hold until the Goddess herself decreed otherwise. 

As the shapes slowly arrived at the lines of the warriors, steel flashed out, the figures dispersed, and silence fell. However, slowly more and more creatures arrived. The most fearful began to break, savagely struggling to force their way out, as their minds conjured illusions born of their darkest nightmares into reality. Even the bravest now had to struggle against their one time allies, even as the hordes of darkness rose to meet them.

The ordered lines descended into a bloodbath, as warriors struggled with each other in the grip of imagined terrors. Slowly, in the center of the fog, the shapes of mighty beasts could be seen. They curled and coalesced, taking the forms of great monsters and ever shifting swarms, growing and shrinking, flowing and dispersing. The doomsayers cried out to their goddess, for surely these were the great dark gods themselves.

And the Goddess answered.

Great rays of light slashed out from amidst the fog, burning through the dark shapes. To the onlookers it was as if a great beacon had been lit in the heart of the night. The warriors stopped fighting among themselves, and fell upon the shadowy beasts, inspired by their goddess. The light at the center of the cloud grew brighter and brighter, and then, all was light. 

Through the light, the vast nation of the Everqueen could be heard chanting for their goddess, as her blinding light burned the darkness away, and then, all was still.

In the center of the fog, the projector faded and fell to the earth, its batteries burned out and its filaments broken from the strain, its' great work complete.

\---

As Lexa watched the hordes of blue clad warriors pour into the chamber, her eyes swept their ranks for the one she sought. At last, when all of the warriors had poured in, seven hundred strong at least, she emerged, her hair blazing golden and the crown atop her head shining. Standing atop a rock, she smiled. She could see Lexa across the chamber. Sinclair was desperately attempting to work the console, and was making progress, but he wouldn't be fast enough. The Godfall was over. The new age was dawning. 

This would be the last battle of the old gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, tell me what you think, about the Godfall, etc. If there are any questions, I'll try to answer them.


	9. Children of Heaven (Part 2): Everqueen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! Named thanks to Lowiiie, the most reliable source of helpful comments on this story. Thank you for all of your support. 
> 
> Yes, see here. I do read the comments (religiously)

"Just to have my love returned."

The Everqueen stood atop the rocky outcrop, Costia beside her, her face concealed beneath her skull mask. The godfall was over, and now all of the Heretics stood, huddling desperately together before the throne. She reached up, touching the hilt of the Commander's sword, its now familiar weight reassuring. The anathema stood just before the throne, with Sinclair desperately trying to undo the work of the Goddess. But he would be too late. The feeble line of his warriors couldn't hope to stand before her chosen. The goddess would descend to the earth and be made flesh. Everything would end now. Raising her blade to the air, she roared out her war cry. As one, her warriors surged forward.

\---

It was all motion and violence around Bellamy. Echo was a whirlwind of knives, every so often accompanied by a spurt of arterial blood as she hit some essential organ. He was hanging back, making sure no-one got past to Sinclair. None of the Trikru warriors were happy with the arrangement, but they resolved that, if they were to die, it would be meaningful. The incessant press of warriors across the chamber was keeping most of the Trikru locked in a desperate battle to buy Sinclair time, but it was obvious that they wouldn't last long enough. Bellamy smashed the but of his pistol into the face of an Ice Nation warrior that Echo let through her guard. He swore that she did it on purpose. Then again, the steadily growing pile of corpses around her made him think that maybe she could get away with it. 

Then he saw something that made his heart freeze. 

Clarke and the Skull Masked warrior had managed to sneak up on Lexa, while she was fighting against a veritable swarm of Ice Nation warriors. The Skull Masked warrior raised their sword, only for Indra to barrel into them, throwing them to the ground. The skull mask rolled away, and revealed a very attractive woman, who could have been an almost splitting image of a younger, grounder Clarke. She leaped to her feet, and lunged at Indra, while Lexa whirled just fast enough to evade Clarke's grasp. 

\---

Lexa stumbled as she ducked under Clarke's reaching arm, catching her foot on a corpse's leg. She fell hard to the ground, and as she tried to rise, Clarke kicked her firmly in the ribs. She rose slightly off the ground, and skidded onto her back hard, her head colliding with the floor. Clarke was a vision of power, her mane of golden hair surmounted by a silver crown. 

"Why do you still fight? Why do any of you still fight? Your gods are dead, and the world bows to my goddess, and no other."

"My people will never bow to her. They respect only those that can lead them. And an incorporeal being cannot lead them."

Clarke laughed. It was a similar sound to that made by Allie, and it chilled Lexa to her core.

"But soon my goddess will be made flesh. She shall descend from on high to the Pinnacle of the Skies, and she shall take the flesh of the Everqueen as her own. My flesh. You believe your pitiful little toys can stop a being who has crossed the lines of life and death itself?"

Lexa froze. The Goddess was going to become Clarke. Possess her. She was going to burn what remained of Clarke from existence.

"Why would you let her take you like that? You owe her nothing."

"I owe her everything. I came to her, a broken wreck of a mortal, and she came upon me, and took away my pain. She gave me purpose, and allowed me to continue living without my guilt. She made me a Queen, and now she will reclaim what she gave unto me. My mission will be done."

"She is not a god. She is a construct, a demon made by the old men. You cannot follow her. You cannot!"

Clarke raised her arms to the heavens, turning on the spot

"You have eyes but you do not see. This is not throne for me, or for any mortal. This is the Throne of the Gods, and she will be its mistress"

"She has no real power. She cannot lead. She has used everything."

Clarke smiled sadly at her

"The image of power creates its substance. She knows everything. And she knows how this will end."

Lexa only just managed to get up in time to parry the cleaving sword blow that followed her words.

\---

Indra span and slashed low, only for the ring of steel to announce another parry from her foe. She had recognized Costia as soon as she had seen her, but now her focus was on keeping her away from Lexa. Indra knew that Lexa wasn't heartless. She had seen enough of her to know that to be true. And the sight of two former loves fighting side by side against her could be more than she could bear. She charged Costia, only for Costia to fluidly twist and flip her over her leg, sending her smashing back first into the ground. She saw Costia's sword rise above her chest, and then saw it power down. She twisted at the last second, the sword stabbing into her side rather than her sternum, but it still sent a jolt of pain through her. She let out an involuntary shout, and saw Costia's face curl into an unsightly snarl. Drawing the blade free, Costia started a flurry of cleaving blows, each seeming to grow stronger as she grew frustrated, while Indra grew weaker. Finally, Costia battered Indra's blade aside, and slashed down to end it all. She closed her eyes... 

...and opened them when the strike never came. Looking over, she saw Octavia pinning Costia to the ground, beating at her face. Indra felt her heart leap, until a body collided with Octavia and knocked her aside. Clarke walked over, and reached down to Costia, helping her to her feet, as Lexa and Octavia struggled to untangle themselves. Indra pulled herself to her feet. 

Well, this was going to be interesting.

\---

Lexa looked up, and her heart leapt into her mouth. As awkward as it was extracting herself from Octavia, it was far worse to see the sight that now greeted her. Costia lay before her, pressed into Clarke's arms. Lexa took a moment to appreciate the physical similarities between them. It appeared that she had a type. Clarke lowered her face and pressed a kiss into Costia's cheek. Costia nuzzled up to Clarke. Lexa felt a pang of grief as she remembered how her Costia had done that. However, this was not her Costia. This was a dark and misguided shell, grown only to be used as a weapon against her. And She would not allow her to win. As Octavia and Indra gathered behind her, the two blondes pulled apart and raised their sword. Everyone knew that it would be the final fight.

Clarke's blows rained in so fast that Lexa could barely keep up with the blade. Even with Octavia's aid, she was hard pressed, desperately fending off fluid and precise strikes. It spoke volumes as to Clarke's sheer physical power that even with two of them, they found it hard to fend off any of her blows, and she managed to keep up the barrage. However, Lexa and Octavia had something that Clarke had long since lost. They didn't merely fight for themselves. If they could defeat Clarke, they could hold back the attackers long enough to give Sinclair time to destroy Allie. So, they rotated their defenses, giving each other time to recover before swapping out again. It was clear to see on Clarke's face that she was getting frustrated. Her blows kept up their power, but began to get sloppy, losing the precision that was such a threat earlier on. Nevertheless, it was still a nigh on impossible feat to keep her at bay even now. Roaring in frustration, Clarke lashed out with an exceedingly powerful blow, striking Lexa's sword from her hands.

Before the next killing blow could fall, Octavia rapped Clarke's upper arm, just above the gauntlets, with the flat of her sword, and Clarke's blade clattered to the ground. Octavia whipped around, delivering a slashing blow that was aimed to disembowel Clarke. 

It never made it.

Midway through the strike, Clarke batted the blade aside with an armored glove, before striking Octavia hard in the guts. Octavia collapsed, and Lexa reached for her sword. Clarke followed up her blow with a kick that hurled Octavia about a foot, before grabbing Octavia by the shoulder, and slamming her back down into the ground. Straddling her, Clarke began to direct blow after blow into her face. The sound of bones smashing could clearly be heard, even over the din of battle. Octavia's screams became muted, then stopped altogether. A roar of fury rose from the other side of the room, as Bellamy saw his sister being pummeled into the dirt by Clarke. However, then a warrior emerged past Echo, and he was thrown back into the fight.

Lexa threw herself at Clarke. Octavia's once beautiful face was now a mess of blood and bone fragments, her nose smashed out of kilter by the force of the blows from the hardened gloves. Her breaths came through painfully, and labored, occasionally accompanied by a gurgle of blood. One of her eyes was popped, while the other was barely open, beneath a cracked fragment of bone. As Clarke tumbled, wrapped up in Lexa's embrace, she punched out, throwing Lexa off of her, and into Indra. As Clarke rose to her feet, she gestured to Costia, directing her at Sinclair. Picking up a sword from the clammy hand of one of her fallen warriors, Clarke entered the new fight swinging.

\---

Bellamy saw Clarke's girlfriend running towards Sinclair. He raised his pistol. He had only one bullet left, and he had to be sure not to waste it. However, he was pre-empted as the whirlwind that was Echo crashed into her. Their blades started to move faster than Bellamy could see- she was good, but Echo was the best. In the meantime, the Trikru warriors had closed up the gap in the line left by Echo, so he started to move over to the center of the battle. Then he saw Clarke. 

She was fighting Lexa and Indra at the same time. It was obviously tiring her, but she wasn't giving in. She deftly patted every new strike out of her path, before replying with a savagely strong blow of her own. Indra and Lexa were used to fighting together, so they shifted in and out of stances and arrangements perfectly- one attacking, the other defending against the inevitable riposte. It was beautiful to see. Then, Lexa broke the arrangement. In a horribly open distortion, she reached out, grasping the hilt of the sword on Clarke's back. Clarke threw her aside with a single arm, batting Indra's blade aside with the other even as she did so. Indra began moving around to block Clarke's path to Lexa, but she needn't have bothered.

Because Clarke had made a mistake.

Lexa clattered into the ground beside Costia. She caught her foot on the temporarily stunned commander, and almost tripped. That moment was enough. Echo easily slashed her temporarily exposed hand, removing three of the fingers. Costia screamed in pain, and dropped her blade, and Echo followed up by burying her knives in Costia's guts.

As Costia exhaled heavily, the echoes of her scream were met by a new one. Clarke roared as she saw her lover fall. Indra stood in her path, but now she was fueled by something other than pure strength. Rage choked her, and, as Indra parried her next stroke, Clarke caught Indra's wrist in her palm and cracked it backwards with savage force. Indra gasped, and sank to her knees, and Clarke, reversing her grip on the sword, drove it into her throat. Indra silenced at once. Lexa was lying on the floor, the blade she had just lost so much to acquire forgotten in her hands as first her old love dies, then her mentor and one of her oldest friends. Tears emerged unbidden on her face, and she lay on the ground. 

Echo, however, was ready for Clarke's onslaught. Despite the crushing power of the strikes, Echo turned them aside with ease. Blow after blow simply pattered off her knives. However, for all of her skill, she was tiring, and she was being driven back. After he knives turned aside yet another blow at the last minute, Clarke snarled in a rage. Dropping her sword mid swing, she leaned under Echo's parrying knives, and smashed a fist into her solar plexus. Echo doubled over in surprise and pain, and Clarke followed up by hammering her knee into the side of her face, sending her onto her side. Stamping on her hands, she kicked her knives away, and then, reaching down, she punched Echo hard in the throat. 

Echo stuttered, reaching for her throat. Clarke was relentless however. Grabbing her by her jacket, she raised her up high into the air, and then dropped her onto her outstretched knee. The horrific crack sounded around the chamber, echoing ironically above the clash of steel, and Echo's cooling corpse slid to the ground. 

Bellamy screamed. He was too far away. Sinclair was too close. Everything they had done. Everything Octavia and Echo had given, it would all be for nothing. Then he saw Lexa rise up behind Sinclair.

\---

They each stood, opposite one another, facing across the throne. Its immense stone bulk seemed to frame what was about to happen. Lexa raised her sword- truly, hers, the sword of her spirit, and of her position. It felt good to hold it again. Clarke raised her short sword. They stepped and...

Clarke fell to her knees, clutching her head and screaming. Sinclair looked up. When Lexa looked at him, he nodded.

"She's gone"

Lexa turned once again to look at Clarke. She was on her knees, keeled over, grasping her head with both of her hands, and screaming her heart out. Across the chamber, the warriors turned to look at the source of the sound. Dropping her sword, Lexa walked over, kneeling down beside Clarke.

"What have you DONE! You killed her! You destroyed the goddess of light! Demons. I name you all demons! HERETICS!"

Lexa reached around Clarke. 

"If she was really the Goddess of Light, why is she hurting you now?"

"She purified me. I was weighed down. All of the guilt. The betrayal. The pain. She took it all away. And this is her punishment for my failure."

"We can help you. Just let us in."

Clarke sank further into the ground, sobbing loudly, clenched fists pressed firmly against the sides of her head. Everyone was so fixated on her shuddering form that no-one saw another figure move up next to her.

"I'm sorry Lexa, but sometimes a rabid dog just needs to be put down"

With eyes ringed red and a face streaked with tears, Bellamy pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed around the room. A fountain of red mist exploded from the front of Clarke's head, and she slumped forwards onto Lexa's lap. 

Lexa froze. 

As Bellamy turned and walked over to Echo's corpse, she felt nothing. As he moved over to Sinclair, and whispered something in his ear, she felt nothing.

As he moved over and scooped up Octavia, and as Sinclair picked up Echo, she suddenly felt.

And she shattered.

 

\---

When Monroe arrived at the Mountain, Bellamy and Sinclair were nowhere to be seen. The rest of the Trikru had surrendered peaceably. Even Lexa had come along quietly enough once she had been allowed to sit with Clarke and Costia.

Anya had given strict instructions. No-one was to be harmed if they would surrender. All of the bodies would be burned. As her scouts scoured the trees, they found a burial mound. It was rough, and there was a rudimentary shaft of wood stabbed into it, with a shred of Ice Nation cloak fluttering at the top, as some sort of flag. Echo was written into the mud at the base. Monroe felt sorry for a moment. She had liked Echo. She had liked the effect she had had on Bellamy. But after that, she didn't order the search to continue. From what she had been told, there was little chance Octavia would survive, and Bellamy and Sinclair were no threat to anyone. 

Indra was brought out last. The sword was still buried hilt deep in her throat. With her task complete, she ordered the train around to return to Polis. There would be a serious political war now that Clarke was dead, and Anya would always need a second in command.

"Now the fire is burning out,  
and the angels call my name,  
dying love will leave no doubt,  
that I'm the keeper of the flame"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. As ever, thank you for reading, and please, tell me what you think. It was a hoot to write all of those deaths (I see why George R. R. Martin enjoys it so much). I personally choose to believe that Octavia survive, but is hideously deformed, a la blonde guy in Fight Club. This is the end of the series. Anyone else is welcome to write any more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think


End file.
